Feels So Soon
by punkbodt
Summary: When Marco Bodt gets a job at a local restaurant, he meets a ton of new people ( maybe even a possible love interest shows up ), learns what true friendship really is, and has the time of his life.


I remember the first time I was interviewed. It had been for an opening as a busboy at McDonalds, and I had never been so nervous in my entire life. I ended up getting the job, but quit, because there was this really creepy girl there that looked at me like I was the best piece of chocolate she had ever seen. It was so awkward when she showed up at my place, and had to be escorted away by a police officer, becase she was half naked, and signing a Britney Spears song under my window at three in the morning.

That had been years ago, and I never stepped foot in a McDonalds again.

Today, though, I was visiting another food establishment. Luckily, it didn't smell like old beef, and sizzling oil. Instead, there was a nice, fresh scent in the air that instantly made you three hundred and one percent more comfortable. As I walked, I glanced around at the quietly chattering staff, and smiled at a few friendly folk, occasionally waving.

Sounds of bustling work to my left had my head turned, peering into a large, way too clean white room. People clothed in aprons, and chef coats made me giddy, but I didn't stop. It was nearly noon, and I really couldn't be more then a few seconds late to where I was head.

I walked by tables of various sizes, white table clothes draped over what was probably stainless wood. Silky napkins were rolled up around shining silverware, placed on the left side of cream colored plates. Salt and pepper shakers stood at the center, a standing deserts/alcoholic beverage menu directly behind them. It was pretty, but a litttle plain. I knew that if I got this job, a lot more color would be thrown into the mix of white and light tan.

A quiet grunt made me pause and swivel my gaze forward. Then suddenly I was smiling, and holding my hand out to be shook.

"Mr. Smith!" I exclaimed. "Hello! I was just on my way to see you. My name is-"

"I know who you are."

The clipped amd short voice had me pausing, but I didn't falter. Instead, I smiled wider, and clasped my hand with the man in front of me, and said, "Of course, sir. Thank you. I am really greatful for this opportunity."

My words were met with a nod. Mr. Smith slipped his hand from my grasp, and was walking down a short hall. He turned to the left, and said, "Come.", before disappearing into an open door. I obeyed, and had my butt in a seat when I was directed to sit in one.

Erwin Smith was a big man, both in build, and social standing. He owned more then a few well liked fast food places, as well as some new sports place, and multiple successful businesses. Mr. Smith. practically oozed money, which was really freaking intimidating. He had darker blonde hair, and darker white skin. His eyes were sharp, and blue. and he had the biggest eyebrows I had ever seen.

"Marco Bodt." he said, making me sit up straighter in my seat. ( Which was really hard and uncomfortable, by the way. ) I nodded in acknowledgement, and was peered at with narrowed eyes. "I looked over your resumé just an hour ago. Impressive." I smiled politely, and waited for more to come. When nothing else did, I heard myself speak in an upbeat voice.

"Thank you so much, sir."

It went quiet for a few moments, time in which I spent beinh stared at. Self-consciously, my fingers picked at my dress jacket, which was a dark blue. I felt nervous and excited all at the same time, and was sure I was gonna vomit all over my new slacks.

"Why do you want to work here." It wasn't a question, but a statement, and I found myself inhaling, then answering with, "I'd love to work here because I believe this is a strong, well-built establishment that will help further brighten my future."

I was met with a dismissive hand motion, and, "Why do you want to work here."

Still smiling, though somewhat less so, I tried again. "Because I've always valued this place-"

"No."

My heart dropped almost as fast as my smile did. "E-Excuse me, Mr. Smith?"

"I said no. No, that is not why you want to work here, Marco Bodt." Erwin leaned closer, elbows resting on his desk. "You don't want to work here because it's an amazing restaurant, or a wonderful job, or because it's your dream." I watched as he linked his long, white fingers together, and rested his chin on them. "You don't think my restaurant is the best. In fact, you think you could improve it, yes?"

I was speechless, and terrified, and confused. Shaking my head more times then necessary, I opened my mouth to speak. "No. No, I don't-"

"Why do you you want to work here."

The feeling of hot tears pushed at the back of my eyes, making it hard to speak without a wobbling voice. "I want to work here because I admire-" Erwin sighed, and shook his head, leaning back. His piercing eyes gazed at him with pity, and I wanted to cry. I wanted to get up, leave the room, and walk home feeling bad for myself. So I stood, bowed my head and muttered, "Thank you, Mr. Smith. Have a nice day."

Before I even took a step away from the desk, a hand snaked out and seized my wrist, and I instinctively pulled it back. When the grasp didn't budge, I looked down at the blonde with exasperated eyes. "What are-"

"Why do you want you want to work here."

"I was getting angry at this point, and yanked my arm back. Why did I want to work here" I wanted to work here because I had tried everywhere else. Because I was always met with apologetic "No, you just aren't what we're looking for, sorry." Because I was about to get kicked out of my apartment, and sleeping in a dirty alley wasn't ideal. Because I was tired of constantly not having anything, be it food, or friends, or a life. Because I wanted to be someone other then a rejected piece of crap.

Because I needed something worthwhile in my life.

I hadn't realized I had said a thing until Erwin smiled coolly, stood up, and held out his hand. "Congratulations, Marco Bodt." he said, once I had got my breathing under control, and took his hand into my own. "Welcome to Olive Garden."


End file.
